Chapter 10: If Someone Saw Me Crying, My Life Would Be Over, Right?

Cecilia stepped out of Rita’s room, and the soldiers stationed along the corridor immediately approached, kneeling on one knee.

“Your Highness!”

“Are you alright?”

Cecilia waved a hand. “I’m fine. Call off the outer patrols. You’ve worked hard.”

“Yes!”

“And tell Lord Angus…” Cecilia paused. “Never mind, I’ll speak to the city lord myself. Lead the way.”

The City Lord’s Meeting

Some time later, in the city lord’s reception hall, Cecilia sat in the main seat, her tone calm. “That’s the situation. The girl has nothing to do with the assassination. Return her belongings and prepare a room for her. It’s rare to see someone come alone for the Holy Knight exam.”

“Understood,” Angus replied. “Should we set up surveillance magic for her new room?”

“No need. Let her keep the current one,” Cecilia said, shaking her head. “And for tomorrow’s exam…”

“Rest assured, everything is ready,” Angus answered promptly. “As for the assassins… they used some magic before dying, turning their bodies to ash. Likely demon technology. It’ll be hard to make progress quickly.”

“Are you saying demons want my life?”

“It’s possible, but worse, it could be humans using demon tech—traitors. And… forgive my bluntness, Your Highness, but there were traces of succubus magic in the room you stayed in last night.”

“I see,” Cecilia nodded, rising from her chair. “That’s all for today. You’ve all worked hard.”

A Princess’s Burdens

With official matters concluded, rest should have followed, but Cecilia’s tasks weren’t done.

First was the city lord’s banquet. At Angus’s insistence, Cecilia attended.

The banquet included only Angus and Cecilia—no one else, not even servants.

Dorothy, one of the examiners, was invited but vanished after the chaos, claiming she’d investigate the assassins’ magic.

Though no formal topics were discussed, Cecilia’s nerves remained taut. The banquet dragged on before ending.

Back in her room, new troubles awaited.

A thick stack of gift lists sat on her desk.

Cecilia picked one up, scanning it quickly.

“Gold, gems, protective magic scrolls? The timing’s quite… convenient.”

She set it down and grabbed another. The contents were similar: money, treasures.

She knew why these gifts were sent to her, the “Cursed Princess”—hoping she’d show leniency to certain candidates in tomorrow’s Holy Knight exam.

The lists clearly named their senders: a merchant’s second son, a post station’s young heiress.

If not for the assassination attempt prompting her to refuse all visitors, her door would’ve been worn out by now.

How ironic. She’d overheard whispers in the corridor earlier.

“The Fourth Princess sure knows how to make a fuss. Going in alone, setting up all those guards—it’s a waste of manpower. She’s just flexing her authority.”

“Exactly. Does she even know how to interrogate? A quick chat and she says the suspect’s innocent? Whatever, it’s not like I’m the one being targeted.”

Respectful to her face, gossiping behind her back. To them, she was the noble Princess when useful, the Cursed Princess otherwise.

Cecilia understood it all.

Her room bore traces of succubus magic, and Rita carried the scent of her bedding. Suspecting Rita was natural.

But Rita’s responses to her probing didn’t match a high-level demon capable of bypassing guards.

No high-level demon was that timid, and Rita neither tried to kill nor seduce her, making Cecilia doubt her own judgment.

If not Rita, then who?

Sadly, Cecilia had no memory of that night. Trying to recall only brought headaches.

Like the one she had now.

The tight security was to prevent Rita from retaliating; entering alone was both a test and a show of sincerity. Every decision was carefully weighed, the best she could make in the moment.

But the results? Were they good? Would Rita obey her? Would tomorrow’s exam go smoothly? Had she truly done her best?

She didn’t know the right answers. Every decision’s outcome was uncertain until it landed.

All she knew was her loneliness. A Princess, yet always alone.

It hadn’t always been this way. Before her mother’s death, before she was branded the Cursed Princess, she wasn’t alone.

She envied her sisters—their trusted companions, their ease in accepting others’ affection.

Lost in tangled thoughts, Cecilia tossed the gift lists—read and unread—into the burning fireplace. The inky paper was consumed instantly.

She lay on the soft bed, closing her eyes. The day’s events replayed: the assassination, the panicked crowd, whispered gossip, the endless banquet, and that foolish silver-haired girl.

She got tired, confused, craved praise, and sometimes wanted to act spoiled. Facing death—she, too, felt instinctive fear.

Thinking of the arrow that nearly pierced her, of someone entering her room undetected, Cecilia hugged her shoulders.

She sniffled, a faint sob muffled by the blankets.

She was scared.

She was… truly scared.

In her fear, in her quiet tears, she had no one trustworthy, no one by her side.

The Princess who feigned composure longed for companionship.

“Ah…”

A startled cry came from the window, where faint traces of ignored commotion lingered.

Cecilia looked up, her swollen eyes meeting the panicked silver-haired girl.

“Uh, so, there was a magical beast on the roof! But don’t worry, I handled it! Oh, and I came to check on Your Highness’s safety, definitely not because I was desperate or anything. Yup, that’s it.”

Rita, in her exam gear, leaned against the large window, explaining frantically.

Liar.

Wasn’t the culprit of the commotion right before her?

“Um, if you’re fine, I’ll just go!”

Rita turned, looking ready to jump out the window, then seemed to sense something off and headed for the door.

“Wait.”

Cecilia rose slowly from the bed, stopping her.

“It’s chaotic outside. Leaving my room now would raise suspicion.”

Cecilia realized her lie was pretty flimsy.

“Just… stay here for a bit.”